


The Light on the Lake

by KikyoShotFirst



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bullying Mention, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Trans Male Character, metaphors for suicide attempts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 11:16:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18715951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KikyoShotFirst/pseuds/KikyoShotFirst
Summary: A boy goes back to an old vacation spot to confront his past, and maybe ends up finding a future along the way.





	The Light on the Lake

**Author's Note:**

> Note: warning for vague suicide attempt description. This sounds weird, but you'll understand.
> 
> Just thought I'd post this, it's been sitting in my folder for months.

     I was standing on the shore looking for it when he came up to me. It was a sunny summer day and I had my socks and shoes off, standing on the sand where the ocean rolled up to the shore. I was on the exact same beach I’d been on when I’d last seen it, so many years ago, my eyes on the horizon, watching. I was so engrossed in my search that I didn’t even hear him walking up to me.

    He was skinny, wearing hiking boots and bicycle shorts with long blue socks. He had these big nerdy glasses on, and he had to keep pushing them up on his face. Walking up to me with long confident strides, he smiled at me. His front teeth stuck out a little bit. 

    “Hi,” he said, “I’m Henry.” He had little dimples on his cheeks, and it made him look older for some reason.

    I was a little taken aback. The island was small, sure, but introducing yourself to a stranger unprompted was simply never done. Since I’d just come off the ferry, maybe he was a local who wanted to help out a tourist? I shuffled my feet, my throat suddenly dry. “Hi,” I said, my voice pitched too high. I cleared my throat. “I’m, uh, Dylan.” 

    “I know,” he said. “Your sister mentioned your name, back on the ferry. But I mean, we’ve met already. It was a long time ago.” He looked a little sheepish. 

    I started to remember, and once it hit me it was obvious. We hadn’t just met- we’d been friends, played together. The last time I saw him must have been the last time I’d been on the trip to the island, around five years ago. “I’m surprised you recognized me,” I said. I was hoping nobody would remember me from back then, for several reasons.

    He laughed easily, looking away from me, out at the water. The sun shone on his glasses and his eyes disappeared beneath the glare. “Yeah, well… I wondered where you went sometimes, after that. You just kind of disappeared. Didn’t think I’d see you again, but then your sister mentioned you were coming along on the trip this time.”

    Another thing I was hoping no one would remember. I braced myself for questions about where I’d been or why I’d suddenly dropped off the face of the earth, but he let the moment slip by, and soon we were just standing in silence, watching the waves as they slid closer to the shore.

     Looking out across the lake made me wonder how I’d managed to stay away for so long. The view was breathtaking, the lake stretching out in all directions, sapphire water as far as I could see. The sky was clear, and the island was full of trees with branches laden with deep green leaves. It felt like my heart was soaring out of my chest. When I was circling around on the ferry, when I saw the island for the first time once again,  it hit me how much I loved this place. So much it hurt, like my heart was being torn in two directions at once. Of course the first place I went to was that beach.

    I started to feel uncomfortable, standing on that particular beach with company, so I suggested we walk together. He started walking ahead of me, legs pumping steadily at a fast pace. “Are the memories coming back?” he asked, throwing a smile over his shoulder at me.

    I huffed, a little out of breath.  “Yeah,” I said, “I remember when everyone would sprint ahead and leave me behind when I couldn’t catch up.”

    He winced. I felt a little satisfaction in his shame. “Oh. Kids can be cruel, huh?”

    I laughed without humor. “Yep. Not just kids, either.”

    He was silent for a few moments. He slowed down and I soon caught up to him. He was looking at his feet, and he murmured, “I guess I can understand why you didn’t want to come back for so long.”

    “That’s not it,” I said. “Forget it.” I was irritated at myself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

    “No, it’s-” He sounded frustrated. “Everyone was cruel to you,” he started again, haltingly. “And we didn’t- I didn’t do anything to help.”

    “You weren’t mean to me. You were nice.” We were walking slow, heading toward the campground, the other people already out of sight. “I always felt bad for you, that you were the one stuck playing with me.”

    “It wasn’t like that! I liked hanging out with you. I liked you.” Once he said the last part, he laughed nervously and looked away. My cheeks were a little red, but I could blame that on the exertion. 

    “I, uh, I liked you too,” I said, already feeling embarrassed. He looked at me with a soft smile, and I felt all gooey inside. I was kicking myself, knowing he didn’t mean what I thought he meant, but I couldn’t stop the hope from welling up in me. It felt good, to feel like I was wanted back. 

    The silence was awkward, and neither of us wanted to be the first to meet the others’ eyes. Finally he said, “Guess we have a lot of catching up to do, huh?”

    I chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

* * *

     We traipsed around the island for hours, revisiting every notable tree and rock, the crooks and bends of the stream running through, and the rocky beaches and cliffs next to the lake. I’d remembered the beach, but there were so many other little things that I’d forgotten, and each new rediscovery lit me up with glee. It had been a while since I’d gotten so much exercise, but I was laughing with exhilaration. So much time had passed, but we picked up right where we left off, as if we’d never cast off our childish passions in the act of growing older. We splashed in the stream like children, plucking pretty stones out of the water to share and to keep. We debated the merits of certain trees, searched for sandstone caves, and exclaimed at the vibrant fungi we found. All the bad memories were swept away while we relived the good ones.

    Amazingly, it seemed like he was having as much fun as I was. His dark eyes twinkled, and he flashed his dimpled smile at me every time I looked. If only it had just been me and him back then, things would have been great. Maybe if things had been different back then, I wouldn’t have ever done what I did, that one night at that beach.

* * *

    It had gotten dark before we knew it, crickets coming out of the grass to chirp at the moon, and stars winking down from the sky. We found a spot up on a hill to set up camp, and laid down in the grass. We were silent for a while, lying elbow to elbow.

     “I still remembered you, you know.” I said quietly. He rolled on his side, propped himself up on his elbow. He waited for me to speak, a question in his eyes. The moon was shining off his glasses. It made him look silly, like a shrewd librarian. The thought made me fond of him, and it built up like pressure in my chest. He waited patiently, so I continued, wanting to get the words out before I clammed up. “I just thought you were really brave. It was when you climbed that rock cliff down by the beach. You went up so high. It was like you weren’t afraid of anything.” That memory was crystal clear, me standing on the beach shielding my eyes from the sun, looking up at his outline cut out against the jagged rocks. I hoped that he couldn’t hear from my voice just how much that memory made me feel.

    He laughed. I felt his breath gust against my cheek. “The truth is,” he murmured, looking down and smiling to himself, “I was just trying to look tough. Really, I just wanted to impress you.”

    When he said that it made me feel warm inside, and I couldn’t hide the little smile that bloomed on my face.

    He continued. “I thought you were brave too,” he said to me. I looked over at him in surprise, trying to see if he was making fun of me. He looked serious, his eyes meeting mine, eyebrows set in a determined expression. “One time at the campfire, you stood up and told everyone you wanted to read a poem.” He said this in a solemn voice, keeping that stoic expression.

    I groaned, throwing my arm over my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at him. “Oh my god, please don’t remind me about that,” I pleaded, grimacing at the embarrassing memory.

    “No, no, I mean, I thought it was really brave of you,” he rushed to say. “God, that must have taken guts.”

    “Everyone made fun of me afterward,” I muttered, dragging my hand down my face. “My sister told me I was a sissy. I cried in the tent that night.”

    He frowned. He spoke harshly. “That was stupid of her. You were brave enough to put yourself out there, that’s admirable to me.” He rolled onto his back again, looking up at the stars. “You’ve always done your own thing, even if you get shit for it,” he continued. He took a deep breath before speaking again. “I remember when you came out to everyone. Like, it must have been hard for you, but you did it anyway. I didn’t understand how someone could be so brave to just go it alone. It was like my eyes had been opened, knowing it was possible. I just…” He trailed off. 

    We were both silent for a moment. 

    “I don’t know where I’d be without you, you know?”

     

    I was afraid to say anything, afraid the moment would shatter like glass. Instead I just breathed, taking breaths in and letting them out steadily. The grass moved in waves with the wind, and once again I was struck with how beautiful this place was. The night was like a perfect dream, and I couldn’t believe it was real. Something made me brave in that moment, and I moved my hand just so, brushing my fingers against his. I only dared to look over when I felt his little finger hook over mine. I could just make out the glare of his glasses, the rest of him as dark as the night. He smiled, and I traced the shape of it with my eyes. It was new, and achingly familiar. I was smiling too as I closed my eyes and relaxed, lying back down with my face to the sky. Our fingers curled against each other carefully. It was thrilling, to feel his hand in the dark, to know his shape while my eyes were shut.

    We stayed like that for a while, and the ache in me had been put away.

* * *

    I woke up in darkness, and it took me a moment to remember where I was. I could just barely make out the shape of my tent, and I could hear the sound of nocturnal insects chirping away. I tried to go back to sleep, but when I closed my eyes, the sound of waves brought me back to consciousness. I tried to fight against the feeling, the need to get up, but I couldn’t win. I should have been afraid as I laced up my boots and exited the tent, but I wasn’t.

    To me, going back to the beach felt like a resignation, in the way that it felt beyond my control. Like waking up on a cold Sunday morning, having to drag myself out of bed. It was different than that, though, because I didn’t want to resist. I was pulled magnetically towards it, and it felt perfectly natural walking through the dark to the beach where I’d almost drowned five years ago.

    I shed my shoes once I hit the sand, dropping my boots one after the other, one stride apart. I flung my socks away as well, and the sand was cool beneath the soles of my feet. Standing at the shore, the water chasing after my feet, I remembered what it felt like to wade out into the lake. The bottom of the shallow water was covered in rocks which had felt like knives to the soft undersides of my feet. I imagined the way I had looked, kicking against the waves, slowly receding into the distance.

    I don’t know how long I stood there, searching for it. I watched the waves bob endlessly up and down where the water met the sky. I barely noticed Henry’s footsteps until he was right along the beach, running toward me. It was hard for me to look at his expression then. I waited for judgement, but all I saw was hurt. When he reached me he didn’t say anything right away, he just watched me, his chest expanding in and out with the strength of his breathing. I looked down at my feet, watching the tide stealing grains of sand out from under them.

    “I should have known that this was the place,” he said. He spoke with a quiet tone. 

    “Yeah,” I said, letting the word drop from my mouth like a stone. He didn’t say anything more, just stood there watching me, his eyes pinning me down from behind the barrier of his glasses. We stood there, the tide coming in and out like deep breathing.

    After a while I found the words. “Aren’t you going to ask why?” I demanded, suddenly confrontational. I saw his expression, curled by pain, but he didn’t move to touch me or to speak. 

    I ran my tongue across my teeth, eyes set on the horizon. The dark of the sky and the dark of the water were almost the same. I broke the silence. “I came down here alone that night. When I was standing near the water, I saw something out there. It was a light, a single light shining out there between the shore and the horizon.

    “It wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen before. It wasn’t a boat, or anything like that. It almost looked like a star, but it was so close. I had to go after it. I needed to. As soon as it caught my eye, I had no other choice in the world but to swim to it.”

    Henry kept silent, as stoic as the trees standing vigil in the woods behind us. I continued. “I didn’t reach it, of course. I almost drowned, should have drowned. Mom freaked out, even my sister freaked out, and they took me off the island right away so they could keep an eye on me.”

    I sighed. “I never tried anything like that again. But I was always waiting for the day I’d see the light again, and I knew that I’d follow it just like the last time, but maybe this time it would take me for good.”

    I wasn’t sure what Henry would do. I expected disbelief, horror, pity, revulsion, anything like that. At the least I expected him to walk away. What he did was step over to me, gently turned my shoulders so that I faced him and away from the lake, and he ran his soft hands down my bare arms. I suddenly realized that I was chilled, and goosebumps had risen all over my skin. The water at my feet was like ice.

    “I don’t want you to look for the light anymore,” he murmured, sliding his hands down to grasp at my cold fingers. “Not at this beach, not anywhere.” His words sounded mournful, but he looked me in the eyes without flinching.

    “It’ll always be there,” I whispered. My eyes suddenly pricked with tears.

    “But you don’t have to follow it,” he whispered back to me. He leaned close, his forehead touching mine, blocking out in that little space between us all the light of the moon. I let my eyelids close as I leaned against him.

    The thought of giving up on that light made me feel like my heart was tearing away from my chest, so sharp it almost made me groan out loud. It seemed impossible to even try. But Henry was holding me, warm against the chill of the air, and I was looking back at the land. He held me, and I thought that perhaps, even as I felt the pull of the light I could find a strong enough anchor that would tie me down to shore. Someday. For then, just for then, I took his hand again as we stepped away from the shore, the tide pulling back in its game of constant ebb and flow.

  
  



End file.
